


Instruction VII

by DirtyDuchess



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyDuchess/pseuds/DirtyDuchess
Summary: The Cleaner needs a reminder of how to follow Joan's instructions.





	

Week Eleven. I was wearing the usual sportsgear and Joan’s collar, as directed, but again there was no sign of her in the house. I felt a constant anticipation in my body now, a craving and excitement every time I arrived to clean her place. And when I wasn’t there I couldn’t get her out of my head. The house was deathly silent, as sterile and bare as ever. Lying in the middle of the island in the kitchen, the worktop already so polished I could see my reflection in it, was a note in that elegant, black handwriting. “I have gifts for you.” Looking around the island I spotted a reaching step (plastic, but stylish, black and expensive looking – of course) and perched jauntily at an angle atop it, a grey ostrich feather duster. The note continued for several more lines directing me exactly which tasks to use the step for. The duster wasn’t mentioned. I rolled my eyes. Joan was obviously not the last of the romantics. 

I worked my way methodically through the ground floor – I always saved the upstairs, and specifically Joan’s bedroom, until last. On occasion I stood in the doorway in a complete daze for minutes at a time as I visualised the things Joan would do to me on that huge bed. Planned what I would do to her.  
I completed the last task mentioned in Joan’s note. “Use the step to thoroughly clean the shower screen in the ensuite.” Climbing onto the step again I grudgingly admitted to myself that it was actually really useful. As I polished the glass I remembered what we had done in here; the noises Joan had made, the feel and taste of her delectable cunt. How she had looked, out of control post climax, shaking against the wall; knowing I had done that to her. God how I wanted to do it again, over and over. I rested my head against the cool glass to calm myself. I was breathing heavily; my thighs rubbed together of their own accord and my nipples were already hard. Get a grip! I told myself. She’s not here, just get on with it. 

I moved to the bedroom, doubtful that would help my state of mind, but tried to focus on what was left to do. It was no good. As I mechanically pushed Joan's state of the art cordless bagless vacuum cleaner back and forth over the deep, plush carpet I was completely lost in my own world and imagining pushing my hand in and out of her. My nipples prickled and I could feel myself starting to get wet. I turned round and jumped as I saw Joan standing in the bathroom doorway watching me. Her face was completely impassive, she was in her usual white shirt, tie and black pants, barefoot once more. I felt a thrill of both excitement and foreboding. I could never tell what she was thinking, how she was going to react or what she would do. She gave a slight flick of her head and I knew to turn the vacuum cleaner off. Without so much as a word of greeting she inquired, "have you finished in the ensuite?"  
"Yes, Joan."  
"Then come with me." She turned and disappeared from view. 

“What's this?”  
There was a smear on the glass screen where I had rested my forehead. Dammit!  
“Strip!” Joan yelled at me. I quickly slid out of my shorts and vest and she grabbed my upper arm in a vice like grip. "Get in there." She shoved me under the shower and turned it on full blast. A jet of ice-cold water hit me, like a punch in the chest."Fuuuck!" I screamed. Joan turned the water off almost at once and threw a towel at me. “Dry your feet. ONLY your feet. Then get out here and stand on the step facing the glass.”  
I did as instructed, covered in goosebumps and trying to control my shivering. My hair was plastered to my head; my nipples were now so tight they hurt. But I still couldn’t think of anywhere else I wanted to be at that moment. An aberrant yearning to be utterly subjugated by this erotic, formidable woman had consumed me. 

“Even you should be able to reach that mark.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Did I or did I not say, clean thoroughly?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yes, WHAT?”  
“Yes, Joan. You told me explicitly to clean the glass thoroughly.”  
“Such lapses, whilst minor, are not accepTable. Demonstrate if you can reach that area."  
Given that my forehead was level with the smear it was obvious I could reach it but I went through the motions as expected. Standing on the step Joan and I were now within a few inches of each other in height and distance. I could feel her proximity; her hot breath on my shoulder, hear her tongue flicker in her wet mouth near my ear. As the rest of me shivered my cheeks burned with a combination of fear and desperate desire. I couldn't yet tell if she was seriously angry or if this was part of an act. I couldn't deny the smear though and felt angry with myself for perhaps ruining this. 

"Explain!"  
“I'm very sorry, Joan. I should have stood back from the glass and checked it was thoroughly clean before moving on.”  
Grabbing the cloth proffered by Joan I polished the offending smear away quickly.  
"Laziness is NOT a virtue I value in my employees, girl. Do you understand?"  
"Yes, Joan. It won't happen again."  
"No, it won't!" Joan bent quickly and yanked the step, with me standing on it, a foot away from the wall. I barely had time to marvel at her strength before I had to throw out my arms fast against the glass screen to stop myself toppling off. "More smears, tut tut." Looking over my shoulder I saw Joan raised her eyebrows, the hint of a salacious smirk playing around the corners of her full mouth, eyes dark with, was it arousal?  
“Bend over and touch your toes.” Joan barked. Blood rushed to my head from both gravity and exhilarated anticipation. I could feel adrenaline begin to course through my veins. Was Joan going to punish me? Please, I thought pleadingly to myself. Please.

I felt droplets of cold water snake down my back and between my arse cheeks. It felt so good as it ran over my sensitive opening. I could feel Joan's latex clad hand circle my left ankle. "So slender, so delicate," she murmured silkily. She ran it slowly up my calf and then trailed her fingertips up the back of my very sensitive thigh. I shuddered involuntarily at her light touch and felt my clit jolt. "Don'T move!" She hissed in my ear, "or would you rather get down from your step?"  
"No, Joan," I rasped, my voice constrained by my position. I bit my lip hard to force my body to stay still. The hand vanished. I looked between the narrow gap in my legs to see Joan pacing up and down behind me. I saw her tie loosened and put carefully aside and caught a glimpse of a strong, muscled forearm as she rolled her shirtsleeve up. The excitement was indescribable; it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to squeal and then to moan. I was so turned on, so ready for her.

Joan moved directly behind me. I felt a splayed hand at the base of my spine and urgent fingers probing my wetness before something round, wet and cold was pushed into my opening. There was a second's resistance before the heavy lubricated ball was sucked inside and the next awaited entry. One long finger pushed the second Ben Wa ball past the ring of muscle before Joan hurriedly removed the digit and wiped wetness on my arse cheek, murmuring, "SUCH a dirty girl." Again I had to bite down hard on my lip but could not prevent a strangled moan escaping at this delicious intrusion into my cunt. I'd used love balls before but found they gave me little pleasure. Joan’s, however, were much bigger and heavier. 

There followed the quick twang of a latex glove being removed and a sharp slap on my arse caught me completely unawares. I rocked with the shock and surprise of the impact and a split second delay followed before the stinging pain hit. It quickly became more muted and delicious sensation spread across my cheeks. I couldn't help it; my arse writhed and Joan slapped me hard again, the sound of her palm connecting with my wet skin ricocheted around the room. My clit throbbed and I moaned as the biting sting turned again into a delicious warmth. Or was that just because I was so wet? I didn’t care. Joan hit me again and again. With each slap I could feel the balls jar inside me stimulating the nerve endings in my cunt and arse. She paused to run one long forefinger from my neck, the length of my spine to my tailbone making my body relax before delivering another succession of stinging, heavy blows across my buttocks and the backs of my thighs.  
"You. Will. Clean. My. House. EffecTively. Do. You. Understand?" Joan took her time, delivering each slap with careful consideration to maximise the area covered and hard enough that the vibrations made the balls and my cunt throb. She waited just long enough between each one for the anticipation to become almost unbearable. I could hear her panting with the effort.

I was starting to feel dizzy, the muscles in my legs were beginning to protest and my whole vulva was throbbing from the spanking, the movement of the love balls and the sound of Joan's heavy breathing. I couldn't tell if it was from exertion or arousal. She was standing so close to me that she must have been able to smell me. I knew I was dripping and the angle I stood at left nothing to the imagination. My cunt was completely exposed to her gaze. My arse and thighs were tingling and hot; my skin felt like an electric current was running through it.  
"Straighten up. Rest your palms flat against the wall. Do NOT look round." I followed her instructions, my chest heaving, unable to stop myself rubbing my thighs together, desperate to feel some, any, friction on my clit. "Stand up straight! Control yourself."  
I knew instantly that what came next was going to be some kind of test. 

Joan stood close behind me, but without touching, and blindfolded me with what felt like her tie.  
Then she left. Or I assumed she had. I could no longer felt sense her nearby but she was so stealthy, barefoot on that carpet. My clit throbbed slowly but steadily between my clenched thighs and an intermediary numbness was wearing off my arse and thighs leaving a persistent stinging in its wake. I was cold, but so so hot. I stood as still as I could, still wet and shivering slightly, my other senses heightened to compensate for my blindness. After what felt like at least half an hour but was probably much less, I heard the gentle pad of bare feet on carpet and stood to attention.  
“Gooood,” Joan murmured in my ear. “You can follow instructions after all.”

The lightest touch of the ostrich feather duster trickled agonisingly slowly down my spine. Joan lingered, touching the feathered instrument to my most sensitive skin, between the top of my cheeks and the base of my spine. It was sweet, exquisite torture. She trailed it upwards and tickled under my arms, stroked the sides of my breasts and flicked their erect tips. She strayed back down my spine and between my arse cheeks, circling my cunt. When she gently tickled the inside of my ear I tasted blood from biting my own lip so as not to flinch and cry out. Achingly slowly she continued to tease the most sensitive parts of me until my skin was alight with sensation and I was panting. I fell into a kind of trance. Never before had I been made so acutely aware of how touch could feel like ecstasy on certain parts of my body and abject torture on others. Eventually the light sensation of the feather vanished to be replaced by soft fingertips trailing along my sides and hips, over my bum and belly. 

Joan leant in against me; I felt her thick, wet lips against my ear, her naked breasts push into my back, the rough wool of her trousers against my arse. "Good girl. Learned your lesson?" The blindfold was wrenched from my eyes and hard nipples rubbed against my back just as languorous fingers reached for my own. Joan encased my damp body in her own, hindering any movement and warming me with the furnace-like heat radiating from her. My tits filled her hands perfectly; were cupped and kneaded, the pressure on the dense tissue increasing steadily. She spent a long time touching them; rubbing, running her fingertips around the areolae, pressing my wet nipples into my breasts before gripping the very tips and pulling them hard in the milking action she seemed to know made my legs buckle and the sensation shoot straight to my clit. 

I flexed my internal muscles, gripping and manipulating the balls inside me, relishing the delicious responsiveness of my own cunt.  
"Bend over again." Long hands rested on my waist as I leaned forward.  
Joan pressed her mons into me. Slowly and very deliberately she rubbed the zip and button of her trousers against my exposed arsehole. I groaned again and pushed back against her. I was so hot, so in need of her touch.  
"Fuck me, Joan," I groaned.  
“I thought you'd never ask.” I could hear mirth in her voice. "And seeing as you're now the correcT height..."  
My cunt pulsed out a wave of anticipatory hot moisture. I felt insatiable where this woman was concerned; I wanted her so badly.  
Joan moved her body away.  
"Open your legs. That's it."

A forefinger circled the ring of my entrance then slipped inside to pull the Ben Wa balls slowly out. The first popped out easily bringing a trail of wetness with it; I heard Joan's breath catch in her throat and she paused before gently pulling the loop again. She made sure the second ball caught on the ring of muscle at my entrance, holding it in place with her thumb and gently pressing, ensuring it stimulated every nerve ending there. I groaned long and loud; I couldn't help it, it felt so good. Head pressed into my knees I pushed my body back desperate to be filled again. As if she'd meant to do it all along Joan pushed the balls back deep inside. There followed a delicious second round of torture as she pulled the balls out and pushed them back in; always teasing, occasionally inserting thick fingers to shove them even deeper. It was utter, inexorable bliss. "Are you near?" Joan's sultry whisper came from above.

"Ye..yes, Joan. Please!"  
"If you want to come you'll have to touch yourself. Go on. Do it!" Yanking the collar she quickly pulled me upright and shoved three fingers inside me, pressing the love balls deep into me. It was a fervent, ferocious fucking. Bracing myself against the wall with one hand I plucked my rigid nipples hard with the other before pushing it between my thighs. My blood-pumped lips were so wet; I dabbled urgent fingers in luscious creamy juices and gasped as I finally touched my swollen, fluttering clit. "That's it," Joan crooned. She trailed the tip of her tongue along the rim of my ear and dragged her hard nipples across my back; she thrust her hot crotch against my arse, forcing my cunt hard into my hand. Her other hand gripped the leather collar tight and twisted it. 

Still light-headed from bending over, I was soon seeing stars. The sensation in my cunt intensified and I rubbed my clit in a lewd frenzy. "Oh, oh, yes Joan yeeeees," I rasped. Just as I felt myself tip over the edge Joan pulled the Ben Wa balls out of me, prolonging a forceful, shuddering orgasm that left me collapsed against the wall. Legs like jelly, I stumbled from the step and fell to the carpet, where I lay enjoying the ripples of pleasure coursing through my body. Jesus she was a connoisseur! I had no idea if Joan had come too but she'd vanished as though I’d imagined the whole thing. When she didn’t reappear after a few minutes I dressed myself with trembling hands, and eventually was able to stand up and begin cleaning the smudged shower screen again. 

"Your keys, please." Joan loomed in the doorway again, fully dressed and hand outstretched.  
“Sorry?” I prayed that I’d misheard her.  
"I may have to go away for a while soon but I think we're done here anyway. So I'd like your keys back. Finish off today but there will be no need for you to return next week.”  
I reached into my shorts pocket and took out the keys, hoping my face didn’t show my devastation too obviously. Joan moved to within a foot of me and reached out a long, pale hand. Soft fingertips traced the side of my face and then stroked the leather collar. “Keep it. A token to remember me by.” She smiled, took the keys then turned and left the room.  
I smiled ruefully at the realisation that today had turned out to be Joan’s parting gift.

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to the inspiration of online friends.


End file.
